


Paint The Sky For Me On Christmas

by lookslikehecansurf



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Christmas Fluff, Fingering, M/M, artist!calum, it's all v cheesy I'm sorry, the band doesn't exist, they all live in NYC for no particular reason
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 03:04:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8951413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookslikehecansurf/pseuds/lookslikehecansurf
Summary: Ashton just wants to make his workplace look festive, without any idea what(or who) a box of Christmas decorations could lead him to. Or, "my shop window decorations are better than yours" AU





	1. Chapter 1

As is known, Christmas time is the best time of the year. It might not always be snowy and cold in NYC, and it might be different because your family’s across the country from you, but everything just seems a little better in the fairy lights and sparkling decorations, and it’s almost like it makes people be a bit kinder to each other.

That’s what Ashton thought, up until the fateful Wednesday morning. 

The day before, Tuesday, was the day Ashton decided that his workplace needed a little decoration. He worked in a cell phone shop on a street full of same small stores whose owners did not bother with decorations, and if they wanted to keep it that way, it was fine by Ashton. He just wanted their place to look a little more festive. His boss, Gina, was a nice woman who of course understood and welcomed Ashton’s intent to actually make it look like Christmas was around, because it kind of was, with December 22nd being today’s date.

Ashton actually had been thinking of bringing his own decorations since this has been his initiative all along, but Gina said she’d hear no more of it and gave him the keys from a storage room, saying that he could use anything he found there. Looking back on it, Ashton understood why no one of his coworkers had the same notion as him - there weren’t many decorations and the ones that he’d found were kind of miserable, but Ashton wasn’t about to back out now. He could work with a box of garlands and plastic snowflakes just fine.

So he used the tinsel to frame the huge window that looked on the street and he glued some snowflakes to the glass and hung the rest of them from the shop ceiling to match the window, and he even went as far as placing small pieces of a wreath that he’d found torn in the decorations box in the glass cases with the phones. (It was a really boring Tuesday.)

And today Ashton walked up to the shop, eight thirty in the morning, to open it up and just happened to look back to the other side of the road to see that the shop directly opposite had a decorated window too. 

The store across was a music store, and whoever had decorated it certainly played around with that. The top of the window was taken by a huge pine branch, and shiny CDs hung from it making it look like baubles. A few vinyls of Christmas albums were lined up at the bottom with bows painted on the glass above them, creating an illusion of presents under the tree. The middle part of the glass was adorned with a string of Christmas lights that wrote “Merry Christmas” in cursive, and Ashton unwillingly admitted that it was done well, considering all they used was fairy lights and duct tape. 

As Ashton entered his shop, flicking the light on and starting up the desk computer, his eyes shifted from the music shop window to his own, and the contrast made him quite miserable. He decided he could try a little harder, just so their window didn’t look like shit next to the music store’s. So Ashton took out the decorations box again and dug through it in hopes of finding something worth to put in the window. 

Gina came into work fifteen minutes after him, smiling as she saw what he was doing. 

“Still not done decorating? I love your commitment!”

“I just love Christmas,” Ashton mumbled in monotone as he rummaged through the remains of the wreath. “Hey, are you sure there aren’t any more of these?”

“Well, no,” Gina said and was immediately distracted by an opening door. The shop was closed till nine, so it could only be an employee. Ashton smiled when he saw it was Luke who’d be sharing the shift with him. Luke was nice. 

“Hey,” Luke said and flashed Ashton a smile. “You need any help with that?”

See? Nice. 

“Nah, I’m fine,” Ashton finally saw something good - a transparent box filled with fake pinecones and Christmas lights that (he checked) even worked. Now, this was going to be awesome.

So Luke was left in charge of the cash register while Ashton hopped around with a chair, hanging the string of lights to the top of the window. He attached the pinecones to the lights so that they would weigh down the string in even intervals, creating a zigzag of the yellow light. It looked much nicer than tinsel which Ashton decided to remove altogether. He was in the process of deciding what to do with the rest of the window because the snowflakes looked bare and cheap, when he noticed him. 

There was a boy around his age in the window of the music store, and he was watching Ashton. The boy’s brown skin was flecked with reflections of light from the CDs and the fairy lights, and his dark curls rested on his forehead, almost covering his eyes, but Ashton was sure the kid was watching him and it fueled him even more to finish his decorating. Honestly, what was this guy’s problem? Ashton was the first and the only one out of the whole street who had decorated, and now this person was just turning Christmas into some kind of a competition which Ashton didn’t sign up for but was now in too deep to just give up. 

Unfortunately, customers came in, and Ashton didn’t have the heart to leave Luke to deal with them alone so he took a spot next to him and worked through all of the people who suddenly needed a phone before Christmas. As Ashton served them, he was thinking about the depressing lack of decorations he could use, realizing that he couldn’t leave the window half-done like this; there was only one solution. 

Ashton waited for his lunch break to roll around, then grabbed his coat and beanie and told Gina he’d be eating out today. Instead of doing that, he ran to the nearest Walmart and got back half an hour later with bags in both of his hands.

“Is that a new diet?” Luke asked, choking with laughter at his own joke. “You eating paper and candles now?”

“Funny,” Ashton giggled and unloaded one of the bags onto the desk next to his register. It contained a wad of paper and a roll of duct tape: Ashton knew they’ve run out yesterday when he was hanging up tinsel. 

“What are you gonna do with that?” Luke asked, putting up his own “lane closed” sign as it was his turn to go on a break. 

“Guess you’ll find out when you return,” Ashton answered as he scrolled through his phone. 

Ashton spent best part of his day cutting out paper snowflakes, looking up new tutorials every hour or so. In the end he had a pile of really beautiful snowflakes that he meant to put on the window. After making sure he had enough transparent duct tape cut up and ready, Ashton set to putting them on the glass really close to each other, and Luke made a noise of realization as he saw Ashton was making a Christmas tree outline. 

“Why are you even doing this?” Luke asked and took the scissors to cut up some more duct tape for Ashton while the shop was empty. “Isn’t decorating your own place enough?”

Ashton’s hand faltered a little, landing the snowflake in the wrong place, so he had to pry it free again. 

“I’m living alone, what’s the point of decorating? At least here, people can see it…”

Yeah, people. Ashton huffed and glued the snowflake into place, looking at the music store across the street. 

\--

As the workday rolled to the end and the blue skies outside turned dark like ink, Luke and Ashton closed up the shop together and stood outside for a minute, admiring the window. The Christmas lights were turned off for the night, but the white tree made out of snowflakes was only more prominent against the dark window, and Ashton couldn’t help but feel good. 

Ashton came into work the next day only to find the music store window all different. He hadn’t even opened up yet when his eyes stopped on the damnable shop across the road, and he saw that he was being out-decorated yet again. The “Merry Christmas” writing was taken down, and the whole space was painted dark blue. A shiny disk was hung near the top, clearly representing the moon, but the best touch was definitely a net of lights that shone the same cold white light and were very resemblant of the stars in the night sky. 

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Ashton muttered, and his head swirled with ideas again. He was alone at work today, as the manager who arranged the shifts figured not many people would come to a cell phone shop on a Thursday. (They were right.)

Ashton had forgotten his other bag from Walmart under the desk yesterday, but it didn’t contain much. The most useful thing he’d found was wrapping paper, and though he bought it for actually wrapping the presents, today it went to wrapping the empty phone boxes to make them look like presents. It took him the entire morning, considering he was distracted by customers sometimes, but when he was finally done he had a small mountain of fake presents to put near the window under his paper Christmas tree. Ashton, quite frankly, was proud of himself. He rarely ever went to such lengths to decorate, even when he celebrated Christmas back home with his mum and siblings. They liked decorating more than he did, so they usually just went crazy with the ornaments while Ashton and his mum sat back and laughed at them. 

Now, however, Ashton would be lying if he said he didn’t feel at least a little bit like boasting. He looked at the opposite shop, as if saying “in your face”, but noticed movement behind the glass door and glanced over. The kid from yesterday, the dark-haired, bronze-skinned boy stood behind it, arms folded, and watched Ashton place his decorations. Ashton almost wanted to laugh - their window was painted and covered by fairy lights, so he had to stand by the door to see Ashton’s shop. Suited him right. 

Ashton took out the candles he’d bought yesterday and placed them in groups on the low windowsill, adorning them with pieces of wreath and the leftover pinecones. He knew he couldn’t light the candles, but it looked nice enough like that. The rest of the shift was spent on cutting out paper words “Happy Holidays” in the most wavy and curly font Ashton could think of and then putting the words on the door of their shop along with a piece of wreath that looked the least hideous of all. Ashton was pretty happy with leaving the shop like this. His next shift wasn’t until after Christmas, and he was departing from work in a pretty smug mood that evening. Ashton knew that most likely this was it, as tomorrow was the Christmas Eve and even if the kid from the music store wanted to make his move, he wouldn’t be able to - every shop was busy on Christmas Eve.

Now, technically Friday was Ashton’s day off, it wasn’t his shift but he still walked to work first thing in the morning as if it was because he just wanted to make sure. 

As he stopped on the street between the two shops, he felt his jaw physically open and probably hit the ground. 

The window opposite of Ashton’s shop looked like something that belonged in a museum, not on a glass of a music store. It was clear that the previous work had been wiped away completely to be replaced with what Ashton could only call art: snowy fields painted so realistically that Ashton could almost see it sparkle in the morning light; there were gray hills and an outline of a forest on the edge of them; the sky was a mix of strokes, blue, black, purple and every color in between, and the stars were also painted, dots of yellow and light blue and white that surrounded the moon which, Ashton could swear, actually glowed. In the middle of the meadow was a beautiful Christmas tree, simple, without any decorations, just covered in snow that lay heavy on the dark green branches, but somehow next to it Ashton’s version of the tree looked bleak and dull. 

And then Ashton’s gaze moved to the side, and he saw the boy who did this all, the boy with bronze skin and curls of black hair on his forehead, and Ashton smiled because the boy was asleep in the chair next to his register, curly head propped on his hands, because he had clearly spent most of the night painting the window. He even opened the shop, because the sign on the door said “Open”, but Ashton could only imagine how bad at selling records this boy would be if a customer woke him up. 

But looking at the beauty that the boy created, Ashton could not just turn around and walk away, and this meant he had only one other option. He walked up the steps to the door and opened it, making the bell above his head announce his presence, and the curly boy jerked in his chair, waking up in an instant. 

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath, and his voice, low and husky from the sleep, made Ashton’s stomach feel all funny. The boy looked up, a standard smile on his face, and then he saw who came in and froze. Ashton was still smiling a little, because this boy who Ashton spend the last few days adressing to as a rival was actually an incredibly cute and cuddly-looking guy with, apparently, truly golden hands. For some reason, he couldn’t find any energy to be pissed at the boy for out-decorating him, and Ashton only wanted to tell him that. 

“Hello,” Ashton said quietly, eyes tracing the details of the boy’s face - his wide nose and heavy eyelids and high cheekbones and a sharp jaw and rosy, plump lips - and he thought that maybe, just maybe, the painting was so beautiful because the boy was, too. 

“Hi,” the boy replied, clearly unsure how to act, and he looked wary like he half-expected Ashton to give him a lecture on how to decorate shop windows. 

Ashton didn’t know what else to say and how to let this boy know that he wasn’t going to pick up a fight. The silence was getting awkward, and Ashton urged himself to say something before the boy went to the default “What can I help you with?” and cut off all the opportunities for an actual conversation. 

“You win,” he finally said, and his eyes met the boy’s chocolate brown ones. When Ashton saw his face contort in confusion, he smiled and continued, “You win the decoration war, I mean. With that painting, I wouldn’t be surprised if you won a Nobel Prize of something.”

The boy chuckled, crinkles hiding his eyes. 

“There’s no Nobel Prize for painting.”

Ashton wasn’t very surprised, but still argued. 

“Hey, but they give out a Literature prize. I thought they have one for artists, too.”

The boy stopped smiling, his face became serious as he glanced at the window before looking at Ashton again. 

“You really think this is good?”

Ashton too redirected his gaze back to the window and saw people on the other side of it, stopping in the middle of the road and looking at the painting and even taking pictures. Ashton thought that it looked just as incredible from the inside, and nodded, “I’d love to come to work and look at something as beautiful as this.”

“Yeah, well,” the boy huffed, not noticing the street admirers of his work, “That’s not fair, because what I get to look at is much more beautiful.”

“Are you kidding? Don’t even compare my monstrosity to what you just did!”

The boy smiled a little and shook his head.

“Didn’t mean the decorations. Actually, I was talking about you.”

And Ashton has dated plenty of guys before, knew all the cheesy one-liners but somehow the boy’s words still made his heart jump like he was a middle-schooler on a first date. He unconsciously stepped closer, head shooting up immediately to check the boy’s face and see if he really meant it.

“Wh-what?” Ashton mumbled, finally regaining his ability to speak, and he looked into Calum’s eyes, scared to see it was just a joke. 

The boy looked unsure, too, and a little bit embarrassed, like he let on too much, but his eyes stared hard and clear meaning he had decided something, and that something might very well be not going back. 

“I did this because I hoped it’d help… help me meet you. I, um, I’ve been wanting to for, like, weeks now, I just didn’t know how to do it,” he confessed, going red from head to toe. Ashton forgot how to breathe thinking of this magical boy being so nervous about talking to him that he painted a shop window instead. It was funny but in an adorable sort of way, and Ashton felt that jolt of attraction he hadn’t felt in a long time, the spark that made him want this boy, too. 

He looked carefully at the boy in front of him, and Ashton’s eyes stopped on a band shirt that hung beautifully around the lean body, and he noticed the tag on his chest that read “Calum”. It suited him - the name was unique and unusual, and Ashton kind of looked forward to pronouncing it.

“Cool way of showing it,” Ashton tried to joke. 

Calum bit his lip, hiding a shy smile, because he sensed that Ashton wasn’t being mean, just teasing to avoid awkwardness. 

“I mean, this is all I’m good at,” Calum said. 

“I don’t believe that for a second,” replied Ashton, who only from looking at Calum’s unholy lips could come up with a few more things he was definitely good at. 

Calum smirked, clearly sensing the change of the mood, but the bell tinkled behind Ashton’s back, announcing there was a customer, and Calum sent him an apologizing smile, returning to the counter. Ashton stepped back and waited till Calum helped a lady pick a One Direction CD for her kid, and then walked to the register himself. 

“When do you get off today?” he asked, because all of the emotions Calum made him feel suddenly converged into a simple wish, no, need to see him again, alone. 

“Not for another three hours, my co-workers come in at noon,” Calum replied sadly, and Ashton could see how tired the boy really was. He felt a little guilty, because he stayed up till God knows what hour only to impress Ashton, and now he had a Christmas Eve Friday shift with almost no sleep to support him. 

“Okay,” Ashton said, “Then how about I go across the road and hang around my shop for a while, and when you finish I’ll walk you home?”

Calum looked like Christmas came early, but at the same time a little scared, as it always is when you’re investing your heart into something. 

“Would you really wait for so long just to do that?”

His voice was merely a whisper, like Calum was afraid his question would make Ashton change his mind and realize his proposal was ridiculous. 

“You waited for me,” Ashton mumbled, suddenly felt the rush of blood burning his cheeks red and looked down. For some reason he wanted to dive into this head first, he wanted to walk the extra mile just to ensure he didn’t lose this boy out of his sight before anything had really started. 

“Yeah, but you didn’t know I was waiting.” Calum’s voice was serious and quiet, and Ashton replied in tone. 

“Doesn’t mean it was easier for you.” And when his eyes met Calum’s again, he finished. “I’ll wait, and I won’t hear another word of it.”

He turned around to leave, but Calum’s warm, low voice stopped him. 

“I don’t even know your name.”  
  
“I’m Ash,” Ashton said, turning around, and the soft smile that lit up Calum’s face almost made him go back and stay. “Nice to meet you, Calum,” he continued with a nod and exited the shop, feeling warmth inside him that no December cold could kill. 


	2. Chapter 2

“Alright, who are you crushing on?” Luke asked the fourth time Ashton glanced at the music store during only Luke’s half an hour break. He was getting annoyed that Ashton didn’t listen to his whining about spending Christmas alone. Ashton blushed, he knew he’d be stupid to try and deny it but he liked Calum right away, something about him was so infatuating he swept Ashton off his feet. 

“It’s, um, his name is Calum,” Ashton said, and as he pronounced the name he realized he’d been bursting to share with somebody. The need to tell anybody and everybody what an amazing person he’d just met was so overwhelming, Ashton was surprised with himself. 

“Okay,” Luke said, smiling because Ashton looked like a typical pining teenager. “And I’m guessing he works across the street?”

“Yeah,” Ashton nodded. “See the painting in their window? He did it last night, all by himself, can you believe?”

“Ooh,” Luke tilted his head approvingly. “That’s actually really good. Any chance he’s as good at kissing as he is at paining?”

Ashton blushed some more hearing those words, because he’d been trying really hard to not let his mind wander off in that direction.

“He, umm, we- we haven’t even had a date yet,” Ashton stuttered, mind filled with images of Calum’s bronze skin and plump lips and shiny eyes. 

“But I’m guessing you’re going to one, when he gets off work?” Luke prompted, as always interested in all the details. Ashton was the one to teach Luke when Luke just came here, so he knew better than anyone that Luke never faked interest, he was just a generally curious person. 

‘No, I’m, just taking him home,” Ashton said, and his eyes widened when he saw Luke’s smirk and realized how those words sounded. “I didn’t mean it like that! I’m walking him, is all. Nothing else, at least for now.”

“Whatever you say,” Luke replied with the same smirk which signaled he didn’t believe Ashton for a second. 

Luckily for Ashton, Calum’s three hours were up and it was time to leave, so he said goodbye to Luke and walked over to the music store. Ashton didn’t even make it to the door when Calum appeared on the porch, a hastily put on jacket and a beanie resting crookedly on his dark curls screamed loud and clear that Calum couldn’t wait to be out of there. 

“Hey,” he breathed out in relief when he saw Ashton, smiling so wide his eyes disappeared in the crinkles. “I was kind of scared you left.”

“I told you I’d wait,” Ashton said quietly but firmly, because he wanted nothing more to assure Calum he wanted to stick around. 

Calum just looked at the ground, still smiling, and they started walking down the street that was crowded with people. 

“So, you paint,” Ashton said. “What else you like to do?”

“Listening to music,” Calum answered thoughtfully, “But then again, I think that’s everyone. I like cooking, but I really suck at it, so I always have to call my mum or my sister. It’s like, the perpetual choice. If I call my mum, she’ll make her explanation five hours long, but if I call my sister, she’ll make fun of me before she actually helps.” Calum smiled awkwardly and glanced at Ashton sideways. “Sorry, I got a little carried away.”

“No, c’mon, that’s exactly what I want to hear. I want to know this stuff. Is your sister older?”

“Yeah,” Calum nodded, then used his right hand to push up his left sleeve. Ashton looked over and saw a tattoo, black ink spread beautifully over golden skin to form a bird with one wing up, and there were words “Mali Koa” under it in cursive. 

“Her name,” Calum explained, a fond smile on his face, and Ashton realized that this boy’s love for his family was a huge part of him; the simple fact that he had a tattoo to remind him of his sister almost made Ashton tear up. 

“It’s really beautiful,” Ashton said, meaning both the name and the tattoo. 

“Yeah, I even did the sketch myself. My friend did the actual tattoo,” Calum let the sleeve slide back down and looked at Ashton. “What about you? You have any tattoos?”

“I do,” Ashton smiled. “Only I can’t show right now, it’s on the back of my neck. It’s just an eagle, doesn’t have a cool meaning or anything, I just thought it looked sick.”

“Good enough of a reason for me,” Calum said, and they walked in silence for some time. Ashton noticed that Calum’s place was in the same general direction as his own, and that was a good thing. 

The shops they worked in were on the outskirts, the suburbs almost, and while the streets were crowded with people it wasn’t like in Manhattan with its tall buildings and pedestrians and yellow cabs stuck in traffic. Ashton and Calum could walk freely, not raising their voices to talk over the noises, and that was nice. Here and there the houses and lampposts and billboards were showing off their holiday decorations, and Ashton thought that no matter how rich they were, not a single one could beat Calum’s painting.

They walked by a snowy park, and Calum said, “We’re almost there.” Ashton didn’t want the walk to end but reminded himself that Calum needed sleep. Ashton could see him another time. 

The boys stopped near an apartment building, but didn’t have time to say a word, because someone tall was running in their direction, flaming green hair bright in the surrounding industrial landscape.

“Calum! Finally!” the person yelled, and when he stopped next to the one whose name he’d been calling, Ashton got a chance to look at the boy properly. Tall and lanky, with piercings and spikey green hair, he was dressed in an unbuttoned black winter coat that clashed with his Converse-clad feet, but his pale face was charismatic and attractive and somehow made you forgive his fashion choices.    


“Michael?” Calum furrowed his brows. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you, what does it look like I’m doing?” the boy scoffed, but smiled afterwards. “Took you long enough to walk half a mile, you noob.” Then his eyes, green like the hair, fell on Ashton and he raised a pierced brow. “Wow, and who’s this?”

“Um,” Calum said, looking uncomfortable and pleased at the same time, “That’s, well, this is…”

“Oh, God.” Michael cut off his friend, eyes digging into Ashton now. “You’re him, aren’t you? The one Cally Wally’s been pining after for weeks! That’s you!”

Ashton wasn’t sure how he was supposed to react and Calum wasn’t giving him any clues, staring at the ground with reddened cheeks. 

“Holy shit,” Michael chuckled. “He actually brought you home. Wow, well, then… I should probably get going…”

“No-no,” Ashton hurried to stop him. “I’m just, um, just walking him home.”

“I’ll see you again, though, right?” Calum looked back at him in an instant, eyes worried and scared again. 

“Yeah, of course,” Ashton smiled. He felt a little awkward because Michael was watching, but the desire to get to know this boy was stronger. “What are you doing tomorrow? Seeing your family?”

“No,” Calum shook his head. “They’re too far away, I’m staying here. Me and Mikey actually planned to hang out together…”

“We can cancel, it’s nothing special,” Michael interceded, smiling wickedly. “Wouldn’t want to get in the way of you two now.”

“Actually,” Ashton said, an idea forming in his head, “I think it’d be better if you came along too…”

\--

Thirty minutes into the Christmas dinner at Ashton’s place, he could see why it was a bad idea to sit Calum’s friend Michael next to Luke. In the span of these thirty minutes, Michael had exhausted all of his horribly dirty pick-up lines on Luke, batted his eyelashes, smirked and winked at him more times than Ashton could count and just generally had done everything to impress and/or embarrass Luke. It was kind of ridiculous, really. 

“Shame you only have one bedroom,” Calum whispered to Ashton as Michael launched into a story how he fell down two flight of stairs once. Luke must have heard Calum’s remark, because his gaze dropped even lower on his lap and he turned red for what must have been like the fifteenth time this evening.

Ashton smiled at the thought that Calum didn’t exclude the possibility of himself and Ashton needing a room, too.  
  
“This sofa’s not so bad,” he whispered back, causing Calum to burst into adorable giggles. He leaned back and circled his arms around Ashton’s elbow, placing his head on Ashton’s shoulder. Ashton was surprised he could even hold it up, because he felt like his entire body was melting. 

“You said your family is far away,” Ashton said, looking at the mess of dark curls that was so close he could smell the shampoo. “How far is that?”

“Australia,” Calum said, and Ashton's eyebrows went up. That made his own struggle seem like an overreaction. 

“Wow, that’s really far. Plane tickets must cost like crazy.”

“Yeah,” Calum mumbled in response, arms squeezing Ashton’s arm tighter. ”Damn, you’re, like, so muscular.”

It was said casually and quietly, like Calum only meant for Ashton to hear but if someone else did he wouldn’t be ashamed. Ashton felt his cheeks heat up and wished he could have more control over his body. 

“Thanks,” He giggled awkwardly, not knowing how he was supposed to react. His previous boyfriends had only ever complimented him in bed. Ashton didn’t have to remind himself that Calum was different; he set himself apart from others effortlessly.

“You go to the gym?

“No,” Ashton said. “I just play drums whenever I got some free time.”

“Oh wow, really?” Calum wiggled a little, obviously excited. “Maybe  _ you _ should work in a music store.”

“Maybe I should,” Ashton’s suggestive tone made Calum look up at him, and his eyes sparkled with mischief. Ashton smiled. “But then we wouldn’t get any work done, would we?”

Calum laughed and sat up straight, moving closer to the table. Ashton was sorry that his little intimate moment with Calum was over, but at the same time he enjoyed seeing Calum devour his cooking, he thought as he watched the bronze-skinned boy pile three different dishes on his plate. Ashton liked this easygoing conversation, liked being able to joke around and tease each other lightly and be at ease with one another. He watched Calum’s movements and mannerisms, the way he always put down his fork in between bites even if it was just for a second, his face muscles twitching and shifting from sharp and model-like to soft and squishy in record time, and Ashton wanted nothing more than just keep learning him. 

Ashton then realized he’d been so busy observing Calum he kind of forgot about his other two guests, but a quick glance in their direction told Ashton they needed an interruption less than a dog needed a fifth leg: Michael had Luke wrapped in his arms, whispering something in his ear that had Luke all hot and bothered, and Ashton turned his attention back to Calum with a chuckle. 

“Did I miss a joke?” Calum asked, having swallowed a bite of his salmon sandwich - Ashton made a mental note that Calum particularly liked those. 

“Nevermind,” Ashton said, and Calum nodded. Ashton pondered his next question for a moment, but decided to ask anyway. “Have you thought about doing this for a living? Painting, I mean.”

“I don’t have a Master of Arts degree,” Calum said lazily. “It’s kind of hard to get a job anywhere in the industry without it.”

“But you could just sell your art, or do commissions?” Ashton suggested. Calum stirred a little. 

“I never really thought much about it,” he said, clearly wanting to avoid the topic, and Ashton chose to let it go. “So, my family’s in Australia, where’s yours?”

“Nevada,” Ashton replied and remembered the conversation he had with them on the phone just this morning, growing sad against will. 

“Oh,” Calum’s voice turned serious. “You’ve got brothers and sisters too?”

“One of each,” Ashton smiled. “Harry and Lauren, and my mum Anne.”

“They must miss you a lot.”

“How do you know?” Ashton asked, eyes meeting Calum’s brown ones. Calum’s mouth corners turned upwards. 

“Because you’re like a sun, everything about you is just radiant,” he said simply. “Every place turns gloomy when you leave it.”

Ashton was flattered, of course, so he smiled a little to show he appreciated the comment. 

“Well, what’s wrong with a little gloomy weather?” He said, and Calum looked at him differently, like he didn’t expect the conversation to get so deep.

“You’re right, nothing,” Calum said, eyes shining softly. “I just prefer sunshine.”

\--

Christmas day turned into a Christmas evening when the city behind Ashton’s windows lit up and the sky darkened. Ashton reached behind him to plug a string of lights into the socket - the only decoration he had put up in his apartment. He chuckled to himself, remembering Calum’s face as he looked around Ashton’s simple home - “Considering what you did with a shop window, I thought your place would be even more decorated,” - and instinctively looked in the direction of the balcony where Calum currently stood having a smoke. 

“So,” Michael said lazily from his spot on the couch across the table. Luke was hiding out in the bathroom, and Ashton had reasons to suspect it was because Michael had given him a boner, so Ashton and Calum’s green-haired friend were the only ones in the room. “You like Cal?”

“Yeah,” Ashton nodded firmly, and, before Michael could launch into the “if you hurt him” speech, asked a counter-question. “I take it, you like Luke?”

Michael’s red lips curved into a soft smile. “He’s something, isn’t he?”

Ashton couldn’t relate, actually, because for all the time he’d been working with Luke he thought Luke was a simple, good guy, but Michael seemed to notice something special in him. 

“Hope you’re not gonna mess around with him and then leave,” Ashton said, suddenly realizing this could easily happen. The way Michael wrapped Luke around his finger in a matter of hours implied he was experienced, and Ashton had dated guys like that, guys who only strive for new experiences and don’t stick around. 

“No, I won’t,” Michael answered, smile fading. “So, why aren’t you seizing the moment? Embarrassing stories about Calum, his ex boyfriends? Kinda thing I thought you’d ask about.”

“No,” Ashton said with another glance to the balcony, “Calum will decide which parts of his life to share with me, if he even wants to. Asking you this feels a lot like going behind his back.”

Michael looked at him carefully, clearly Ashton’s words had an effect on him.

“Well,” Michael finally said, “seems like this time Calum chose the right one,” and he smiled to Luke who had just exited the bathroom. Ashton got up, grabbing some plates to carry to the sink because he wanted to give Michael and Luke a private moment, and escaped to the kitchen. 

He was in the process of washing the dishes when arms wrapped around his waist from behind, making Ashton jump and almost drop the plate. Calum’s hoarse laughter tickled his neck, and Ashton shook his head.

“Sorry,” Calum said in a tone that implied he wasn’t sorry in the slightest. “Need some help?”

“No, I’m good,” Ashton said, mostly because it felt really nice to be held like that and he didn’t want Calum to move. 

“You’re like one of Santa’s elves,” Calum noted and rested his jaw on Ashton’s shoulder. “You cooked an amazing dinner and probably cleaned the house twice before we came and now you’re cleaning up afterwards…”

“No,” Ashton argued, “I’m actually Cupid tonight, I believe. Look at Michael and Luke! I should make money matchmaking,” he added, feeling pretty pleased with himself. 

“Well, that’s not very Christmasy, is it?” Ashton could hear Calum pout and looked over to see the plump lips and the puppy eyes. “Come on, Ash, it’s Christmas. Be my elf.”

“Be your elf?” Ashton laughed. “I don’t even wanna know what that means!

But Calum was already changing the topic, his one hand left Ashton’s waist to tug on the collar of his button up. 

“Can I see your tattoo?”

Ashton nodded, moving his one hand to the top buttons and undoing it, and Calum pulled the collar down, revealing the eagle on Ashton’s neck. 

“It’s good,” Calum said after a moment of contemplation, “but Michael could do better.”

Ashton wanted to tease him saying that maybe Calum should be ogling Michael’s tattoos and not his when warm lips pressing to his skin left the words stuck in his throat. 

“Sorry,” Calum whispered, pulling back. “I know we’re not like that yet, I was just…”

“No,” Ashton turned off the faucet and quickly wiped his hands, turning around to face Calum. “No, I liked that. I like that you’re so…” He couldn’t get the words out, because looking at Calum took his breath away. Eyes shining in the dark room, mouth agape, chest rising and falling, Calum looked like something out of a fantasy, a dream of perfection that could never actually exist except now, it did. 

“People told me before I’m too clingy,” Calum whispered, gaze falling to the floor. Ashton knew that it must have hurt to hear that, the way it hurts when people call you annoying and you feel like never opening your mouth again. He took Calum’s hands into his. 

“I like clingy,” he admitted and felt saitsfied when Calum smiled a little. 

Ashton looked down, too, stopping his gaze on Calum’s hands. His left wrist was adorned with the word “Alive”, and it made Ashton want the same word tatooed on him because that’s exactly how Calum made him feel. 

He stepped to the door, pulling Calum after him, and the boy followed without question. Ashton had something romantic in mind, like getting a box of chocolates from the table and watching some Christmas movie feeding them to each other, but his plans were cut short when he entered the living room. Michael and Luke sat on the couch, intertwined limbs everywhere, and kissed like there was no tomorrow. 

Calum chuckled behind Ashton’s shoulder and pushed him forward, but Ashton involuntarily got excited over the sight because honestly, Luke and Michael looked hot. Ashton glanced at Calum who looked at the two with the expression on his face that must have matched Ashton’s own. 

“Come on,” Ashton whispered and hurried inside his bedroom, closing the door after Calum entered. 

The next moment, Calum’s hands were on him, tounching and caressing and squeezing his sides, his chest, his arms and Ashton found himself pushed against the wall, Calum's face in front of his. 

“I want you,” Calum said, low and honest, and the words echoed through Ashton's body. He used his own arms to press Calum closer to him, the boy’s warm body firm against his own. 

“Okay,” Ashton breathed out, his eyes found Calum’s and they leaned in together, lips touching softly. Calum’s hands were still roaming but the kiss was gentle, and Ashton for once in his life didn’t feel like taking control. Calum deepened the kiss and Ashton let him. Calum did something very satisfying with his tongue, and Ashton whimpered, going weak under his heated attack. 

“Ash,” Calum breathed out, moving to kiss Ashton’s neck which elicited another moan out of Ashton. “Want you so bad.”

Ashton responded by grabbing the hem of Calum’s shirt and pulling it over his head. After is was discarded, Ashton saw another two tattoos under each of Calum’s collarbones - a Roman number and a feather, and he couldn’t think of anything but kissing the inked skin, so that’s what he did. Calum’s hands locked on Ashton’s neck as he hummed with pleasure, but he didn’t let the kisses distract him and moved his hands to undo the buttons of Ashton’s shirt, his heavy breath telling Ashton how much he wanted it. Ashton wanted it, too - his dick started to harden, and he was itching to take Calum’s clothes off. Calum started to take off his own pants while Ashton was busy throwing away the shirt, but Ashton’s hands stopped him. 

“No, let me.”

Ashton flipped them around, letting Calum lean against the door, and slowly unzipped the black jeans Calum was wearing. The other boy watched him with eyelids so heavy they only left slits instead of eyes, and Calum’s chest, beautifully glistening where Ashton had kissed him, rose and fell as he watched Ashton.

Ashton didn’t mean to be a tease, he just wanted to take it a little slower than Luke and Michael next door, so he brought his face closer to Calum’s body and kissed his stomach, moving down to the waistline of his pants, and then slowly tugged them down, revealing red boxers with a pattern on them. It might have been dark in the room, but Ashton still saw the sugar canes and looked up at Calum who bit his lip, blushing. 

“Are you wearing Christmas themed underwear?”

“Yeah,” Calum mumbled, his eyes met Ashton’s. “But I’d rather not wear any right now, so do something about it.”

Ashton didn’t know why, btut he liked obeying Calum. There was something incredibly satisfying in bringing Calum pleasure, being directed by him, so he returned to his task of undressing Calum and peeled the jeans off his legs. Ashton half expected to find another tattoo on his calf or over his knee or something, but there wasn’t one, so he simply threw away the jeans and moved up, taking the hem of the underwear between his teeth. 

Calum drew in a sharp breath as he realized what Ashton was about to do but didn’t stop him, and Ashton held eye contact deliberately as he slowly pulled down the last piece of clothing. Calum’s neck was now flushed red too, and all Ashton wanted to do was leave hickeys all over it, but finally the underwear was off and Ashton could see Calum’s cock, hard and thick and almost pulsating with desire. Ashton pushed away the thought of sucking Calum off right away and got up, meaning to take off his own pants, when Calum’s hands caught his. 

“My turn,” he growled and suddenly pushed Ashton, sent him flying on the bed and stepped closer, not leaving Ashton a moment to collect himself. His sklilled hands unbuttoned Ashton’s pants in a moment, and Calum knelt on the bed near Ashton, a sly smile on his lips. 

He took his damn time taking Ashton’s pants off, hands gliding all over Ashton’s thighs and sides, hovering over his crotch, and finally Ashton asked him to get it over with in a strangled voice, which seemed to be just what Calum was waiting for. The jeans were off in an instant, and Calum took the underwear with them, not bothering with another round of teasing.

“Come here,” Ashton said and pulled Calum on top of him, connecting their lips again. This kiss was hungry and heated, and their bodies, now naked and pressed to each other, only multiplied the effect. Calum moved to align his erection to Ashton’s, moaning out loud when they touched, and Ashton had to hold back an involuntary thrust. He wanted to keep this going a little longer than a few ruts against Calum’s hipbone, so returned to kissing and touching Calum, learning his body and trying desperately to make his brain remember which bit Calum liked the most. 

Calum’s breath hitched, kiss faltering, when Ashton squeezed his ass, Calum held back a strangled moan when Ashton's lips touched his neck and he shut his eyes, throwing his head back, when Ashton nibbled at Calum’s skin with his teeth. 

“Fuck,” he swore, his hips rolled against Ashton’s and Asdhton knew it was time to go further. He grinded back, relishing in the feeling, and Calum looked down on him with a smirk. 

“I want you on your stomach,” he said, desire palpable in his voice, and Ashton’s insides turned at the thought of Calum inside him. He was rarely ever a bottom, but with Calum he wanted it, so he obeyed. Calum moved, sliding off him, and Ashton turned around. 

For a minute, nothing happened, and Ashton started to become paranoid if the sight somehow disappointed Calum of made him change his mind when he felt Calum’s body like a blanket over his own, planting soft kisses on the skin of Ashton’s back. 

“God, I want to paint this,” Calum blurted out. His hot breath made the little hairs all over Ashton’s body rise up, electricity spreading from every spot Calum touched. And then, his words kicked in, and Ashton couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Paint what?”

“You, like this. Fuck, you’re beautiful, everything about this is beautiful.” Calum’s voice was pained, like it hurt him to say the words, and Ashton turned his head to see him. Calum’s face was almost sad, eyes full of longing, and Ashton smiled. 

“Take a picture, then. You can paint it later from the photo, right?”

Calum shook his head. 

“I won’t be able to catch the mood. It’s.. hard to explain.” he looked away. “Sorry, I ruined it, didn’t I?”

Ashton sat down, facing the beautiful boy in his bed and ignoring his body’s stupid urges. 

“No, this is a thing that I love about you, okay?” Calum looked up with hopeful eyes. “If being with me makes you want to paint, that’s like the coolest thing ever.”

Calum smiled timidly. 

“And you’re not mad?”

Ashton smiled, took Calum’s hand in his and kissed his knuckes, looking into Calum’s eyes. 

“Did you bring a sketchbook?”


	3. Chapter 3

“It won’t take long,” Calum promised, his voice still reflecting a bit of guilt. He already had to interrupt Michael and Luke trading blowjobs when he went to get his sketchbook, and now he was busy arranging the pillows so Ashton could lie comfortably. 

“Calum, it’s fine,” Ashton replied softly. “Don’t you want to move this shit away instead?”

He pointed at the few items of clothing that landed on the bed and the duvet that lay crumpled on the side. 

“No,” Calum shook his head, “it can’t be staged. I want the reality of it, the emotion, and in reality nothing’s ever clean cut.”

Ashton could feel himself fall in love with Calum with every thoughtful thing he said, so he only smiled at the words and brought Calum closer for a kiss.    


“I can’t believe you’re going to draw me,” he confessed when they broke away. “That’s like, some romantic-book level thing.”

“Romantic?” Calum laughed. “Me drawing is a massive cockblock, don’t you think?”

Ashton giggled, falling back on the bed like Calum had told him to.

“Who said I’m not getting cock after you’re finished?”

“Dirty mouth,” Calum mumbled as he put his pencil down, “I love it.”

He announced that he was done about an hour later, when Ashton who had been lying on his stomach naked the entire time was starting to fall asleep. Calum said he didn’t want to show Ashton the sketch and that he’d color it later at home, and then fell down on the bed next to Ashton. 

“We should probably go to sleep,” he suggested, making Ashton turn his head to look at him. “It’s the middle of the night.”

“Yeah,” Ashton agreed and wriggled his body to be closer to Calum, planting a kiss on his neck, “And I still want you.”

Calum smiled and pushed Ashton down, pinning him to the bed with his hands. 

“Okay, you asked for it.”

The mood changed as Calum’s hand found Ashton’s dick, tugging on it until it hardened again, and Ashton knew Calum was in no mood for teasing. Calum’s lips left hot kisses on Ashton's neck, teeth digging into the skin to leave a mark. Ashton moaned as he fucked into Calum’s hand, desire clouding his mind again. Calum’s free hand combed through Ashton’s messy curls, and their mouths connected in the fiercest kiss they had shared yet. 

“Calum,” Ashton called out right into his mouth when Calum did something amazing with just a flick of his wrist on Ashton’s cock, and he felt Calum smile into the kiss. 

He pulled his hand away, making Ashton whimper, and he heard Calum's whisper tickling his ear, “Where do you keep the lube?”

“The dresser,” Ashton breathed out, “Top left drawer.”

Calum's warmth was gone for a moment and Ashton couldn’t open his eyes to look at him, but he returned quickly, and Ashton heard the cap of the bottle being opened. 

“Is this okay?” Calum asked suddenly, making Ashton leave the blissful darkness and look at him. “Me on top, I mean?”

“Yeah,” Ashton nodded, “Please, just…”

“Okay, okay,” Calum smiled, “Eager.”

His oily fingers moved up Ashton's thigh and he felt it twitch with excitement; Calum moved closer to his aching cock and slid his hand past his balls to the small tight hole, gliding over it. Ashton let out a loud breath as Calum pushed one finger in, and the feeling of someone inside him made Ashton’s head swirl. He fucked himself on Calum’s finger which he took easily, but when he added another, Ashton stopped moving. Calum also stopped, giving him time to adjust, and only started working him up after Ashton gave him a nod. 

Third finger made Ashton feel like he was in heaven, because with three fingers inside him Calum was able to brush past Ashton’s sensitive spot, stealing moans from Ashton's lips.

“I’m ready,” Ashton breathed out, and Calum’s fingers left him, only to be replaced with Calum’s hand spreading his legs apart and the sensation of Calum’s cock pressing to the entrance. Ashton didn’t even catch the moment when he put on the condom, but that didn’t surprise him because Ashton’s been slipping in and out of this paradise-like state for a while now. 

“Ash,” Calum’s hot whisper reached his ears, “Ash, are you-”

“Do it, Calum, please,” Ashton pleaded, and Calum listened, sliding inside Ashton in one swift movement. Ashton felt Calum’s cock filling him, stretching him up from the inside, and he felt like he didn’t even need time to adjust; this just felt right. 

He rolled his hips to show Calum he could move, and Calum did, slowly fucking Ashton with loud moans escaping him. Ashton made himself open his eyes and was not disappointed: the sight of Calum’s body moving on top of him along with the tension his cock was building inside Ashton - this all kind of made Ashton wish he could paint, too, because this was something worth painting. 

Calum’s hips moved faster and his hand wrapped around Ashton’s abandoned cock, bringing relief. Ashton knew he was close and could feel that so was Calum - there was a falter in his rhythm, and he’d found Ashton’s prostate because he was now fucking into it on purpose with sloppy thrusts. There was a tangle in Ashton’s stomach begging to be released, and when with a final snap of his hips Calum came, falling on the hand he put on the bed to support himself, and Ashton’s name escaped his lips Ashton came too - messy sprouts of come stained his stomach and Calum’s hand, but he didn’t seem to mind. Calum’s eyes opened, staring at Ashton from under the curls that sweat glued to his forehead, and he smiled. Ashton smiled back, unable to form words as Calum jerked him off through his orgasm, and when it became too much Calum pulled his hand back and lay down on the covers next to Ashton. 

“That…”Ashton started, surprised at how wrecked his own voice sounded, “That was…”

“Shhh,” Calum shushed him with a kiss to Ashton’s shoulder. “Just go to sleep.” 

Ashton smiled, feeling completely at peace, and intertwined his fingers with Calum's before closing his eyes for the night. 

\--

Ashton woke up to an empty bed and immediately feared that he’d done something wrong last night. A sour feeling settled into his chest as he got dressed, noticing that all of Calum’s belongings were gone without a trace. Ashton didn’t know how to feel, and he left the bedroom to find Michael and Luke sleeping cuddled on the couch. He didn’t have the heart to wake them, plus it was doubtful they knew anything about Calum leaving. 

Ashton walked past them into the kitchen and automatically put the kettle to boil, but he wasn’t feeling any hunger or thirst, in fact, he wasn’t feeling anything. There was an emptiness in his heart that Calum’s absence caused and the worst bit was that he didn’t know why Calum left. 

The kettle clicked, turning off, and when the noise of boiling water quieted down Ashton heard footsteps approaching. He braced himself for a sleepy Michael or Luke, but it wasn’t either of them who stood in the kitchen doorway; it was Calum. 

He looked like hell: dark shadows under his bloodshot eyes, hair ruffled and messy, clothes barely decent, and he was clutching a folder in his paint-stained hands…

“Shit,” Calum said, looking at Ashton, his voice was hoarse. “I thought I’d make it back before you wake up. Also I hope you don’t mind that I took the keys from the bowl,” he looked sheepish, shifting his weight from one leg to another. 

“Where have you been?” Ashton asked and hoped that his voice didn’t sound like he was interrogating someone. He just wanted to know why Calum took off like he did, but the empty feeling he caused had not faded yet.

“I… I couldn’t sleep,” Calum said, “So I ran back home and colored my sketch, and, well…” He stretched out his hand, offering Ashton the folder. Ashton took it, opened the cover and froze on the spot. 

On a sheet of paper was a painting so beautiful, Ashton wouldn’t believe it belonged to Calum's hand if he didn’t know for sure. The strokes were bold and bright - light blue of the bedsheets and a few dark spots where the clothes lay, and the lightest bit was Ashton himself, spread on the bed with his arms folded under his head, the curves of his back done with a few contrasting strokes. It was simplistic, without much detail, but there was a raw purity to it and Ashton understood what Calum had meant when he wanted everything to look real. The painting captured the magic of the moment, but didn’t make it appear torn out of a fantasy - it was an illustration of last night, exact and vivid and alive. 

“Calum,” Ashton whispered, voice barely escaping his throat, and raised his gaze. 

“Yeah?” Calum’s own voice, usually so velvety and smooth, was now shaking as he awaited Ashton’s reaction. 

“This is… you’re… I have no words, but that’s, this belongs in a museum, honestly,” Ashton said and stepped closer to Calum. He tried to wrap his head around the fact that this amazing boy in front of him could choose anyone in the world and for some reason stood here, in Ashton’s small kitchen, after bringing Ashton a painting with him in it. 

“No,” Calum said firmly, “This wasn’t for people to see. It was for you.”

Ashton put down the painting, moved even closer to Calum and encircled his waist with his arms. Calum smiled a little, then continued. 

“You don’t get it, do you? Yesterday, when I told you you were like a sun, you didn’t believe me. You got all blushy when I said you’re muscular. You’re not used to people telling you how amazing you are, but it’s true. And this,” he nodded at the sheet of paper on the table next to them, “This was you, all you, and you were beautiful as ever. I couldn’t sleep until I made sure you had a way to remind yourself of that.”

Calum’s paint-stained hands cupped Ashton’s face. 

“Thank you,” Ashton whispered, Calum’s words settling in. “I will keep it and try to remember.” Calum nodded, satisfied, and pecked Ashton’s lips. Ashton kissed him back but broke off to finish his thought. “But if I’m the sun, what are you?”

“If you say “moon of my life” I will punch you in the face,” Calum threatened and Ashton laughed, squeezing Calum's waist in his hands. 

“Okay, then what are you gonna be?”

“I’m the sky,” Calum said like it was an obvious thing. “The sun lights up the sky.”

“Yeah, but the sun is useless on it’s own,” Ashton said and saw Calum hold back a yawn. “And right now, the sky needs some rest.”

“No shit,” Calum grumbled, allowing Ashton to pull him to the bedroom again, “I’ve spent two of the last three nights painting for you.”

Ashton stopped halfway, turned around and kissed Calum, ignoring the sleepy whistles of Michael and Luke from the couch. When the kiss was over, he walked the rest of the way to his bedroom and pulled Calum in, closing the door.  


“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.” Calum’s face brightened at that, his lips curling up in a happy smile. Ashton looked at him, then the painting that he broight with him. “But if you paint me again I’m gonna start your personal gallery.”

“Wouldn’t it be your personal gallery then?” Calum teased, then looked at Ashton. “But, um, I actually thought about what you said, and I think I could paint for people and sell the art,” he added. “Can’t work in a music store till I’m eighty.”

“Good,” Ashton said. “It’s a start.”  
  
Calum fell on the bed and Ashton lay down as well, making sure to cover the curly boy with a blanket, and settled near him. Calum was asleep a minute later, and Ashton thought that he was fine with being someone’s sun if it meant lighting the way for someone like Calum.


End file.
